


Ketch is My Kink

by DeviantStar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, F/M, Top Arthur Ketch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-08 21:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12873792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviantStar/pseuds/DeviantStar
Summary: Reader works at the BMOL with the handsome, but dangerous, Arthur Ketch. Written in first person.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm brand new to this sort of writing and had originally intended to give my first chapter a complete overhaul. I've decided to leave it as is except for a few minor changes. This is a journey for us, together. Like some journeys, this has a rough start, but improves as time passes. Enjoy the ride.  
> p.s. To my "Naughty Bits" peeps, thanks for the support and encouragement. This wouldn't have happened without y'all.

We've been working in the same building and in the same department for months. Not one word has passed between us. A nod, a polite smile sure, but never a word from either of us.  


We attend boring weekly update meetings. It's always the same. He holds the door for me and I nod my thanks. He sits in the chair to my left just like he does every week. The meetings last an hour every week. Not one minute more or less.  


Like clockwork 30 minutes into every meeting his hands slide off of the top of the table and he starts using his phone in his lap. Words With Friends, I notice.  


So predictable. Week in and week out more of the same. During today's meeting his hands do their usual disappearing act, but I barely notice. Until I feel warm fingers snaking their way up my thigh. 

Nothing else has changed. His position, his facial expression remain exactly as they have every week at this time. My heartbeat is erratic and so loud in my ears. I'm normally a pantsuit kind of girl, but opted for a skirt today. He grips my upper thigh hard enough to leave five finger shaped bruises and I'm guessing that was his intention. His hand, that hand with the curious little tattoo on it, makes its way back down my thigh toward my knee. I'm a little disappointed until I realize he's bunching my skirt up in his curling fingers, slowly bringing the bottom hem higher and higher.  


I start to slide my hand off the table in order to reciprocate, but notice a small movement from his head, a slight twist letting me know that I need to stay as I am. I reluctantly replace my slightly trembling hand back in its original position. He has reached the bottom of my skirt and now begins his exploration again. He prods and pinches his way upward at an agonizingly slow pace. I feel small beads of sweat form on my upper lip and lightly run my tongue over the corner of my mouth. His small intake of breath provides evidence that the movement didn't go unnoticed.  


The thin material of my panties is the only barrier between his fingers and my aching pussy. His fingers run back and forth over the outside of my underwear, tracing the valley between my lips. I can feel how wet they are and I know he can too. He slides the fabric to the side and dips the tip of one finger just inside my lips and then removes it just as quickly.  


There is a report on the table in front of him. He is now looking at it with rapt attention and I'm confused by this sudden shift of focus until...He slowly raises his finger from my lap to his mouth, licks the tip, and then turns the page. He repeats the action and there is the tiniest upward curl on the side of his mouth.  


His face then returns to its usual stony indifference, his hand returns to his lap and he begins a new game on his phone. I'm screaming 'Wtf?!' in my mind. I hadn't even noticed that everyone was standing because the meeting is over. I look to my left, but he's already gone.  


I'm in a confused state as I exit the room and turn toward my office down the hall. I'm about to place my fingers on the door handle when a strong hand grabs my elbow from behind and silently pulls me into the supply closet that is next to my office. He shuts the door behind us and presses my back against it, effectively preventing anyone else from entering.  


I open my mouth to speak my first word to him when his mouth slams into mine and his tongue quickly erases all thoughts of speaking from my mind. His hand is behind my head pressing my face into his. He grabs my hair and abruptly pulls it hard until my chin is pointing upward and he begins licking and nipping at my neck, his teeth scraping against my collarbone. I moan quietly and he begins grinding his cock into my belly so hard that I'm sure he's adding to the collection of bruises I've acquired today.  


He releases my hair and attacks my earlobes with his hungry mouth and searching tongue. Sucking and biting on one and then the other. I run my tongue along his jawline and reach for his cock. I almost have it in my hand when he suddenly grabs both of my wrists and slams them against the door above my head. He uses one hand to keep them there. He smiles and waggles his finger in my face while shaking his head. I'm not happy about this no touching his cock edict, but I'm totally turned on by his complete control of the situation and of me. He's driving me crazy and he knows it. 

I pout a little and he bites my bottom lip, shaking it, and actually growling. I smile and he releases it. He has turned around and is looking for something on the shelves. He grabs two packs of copy paper and places them at my feet. He grabs my elbow and pulls me up until I understand that he wants me to stand on them. We are now at perfect eye level height. He bends down, slides my panties completely off, and places them in his pants pocket. He has a wicked grin on his face as he unzips his fly and pulls out his hard dick. I look at it and desperately want to touch it, but he is holding both of my wrists in one hand and his cock in the other. He runs his thumb down the length of it until he reaches the head. He pushes it all the way down towards the floor and then quickly flicks his thumb away causing it to bob up and down.  


He pulls my skirt up and places one side of it into each hand. Grabbing his cock again, he pushes it against my clit and begins teasing it back and forth. I've never been this turned on before. I squeeze my thighs together to increase pressure. Fuck! It feels so good. I want him inside of me so bad. He begins pushing his hips forward and pulling back. He's not entering me, just fucking the outside while gliding over my clit with ever increasing speed. "Uh, uh, uh." I softly moan as I feel my climax approaching. He keeps moving his hips as he grabs my face, roughly kissing me again. It's happening, right now. I can feel my inner walls contracting and releasing. Oh god, it's so good. All my moans are drowned inside of his mouth as our tongues intertwine. He releases my mouth and stops pumping his hips. He grabs my wrists and pulls me off of the paper packs. He places his other hand on top of my shoulder and pushes down until I'm on my knees in front of his glistening cock. He's still holding my wrists in his tight grip. I open my mouth to take it and he moves slightly to the side and it's now pressed against my cheek. I look up and he's showing me that wicked little grin again. He pulls his hip back and turns it quickly which causes his cock to slap my cheek. I open my mouth to protest and he quickly silences me by shoving his prick in so far that it slams against my throat. I can taste the combination of my juices and his flesh in my mouth. I begin bobbing my head back and forth as I work my tongue along the underside of his dick. I release it and place a sucking kiss on the underside just below the head. My tongue plucking at the sensitive ligament there and looking up into his eyes. He's staring back at me and he's panting. He's close to cumming. I take the head back into my mouth and begin sucking in the length of him. Faster and harder I suck. I can feel the temperature of his cock rising. I feel the throbbing tempo inside of my mouth and I hear him groan lightly above me. He explodes in my mouth. So much. Shooting out so fast. I struggle to swallow it all and a small amount dribbles from the side of my mouth. He pulls me up by my wrists and then releases them. He places his cock neatly back inside of his pants and zips up his fly. He reaches inside his pocket and brings my panties up to my face. He uses them to dab the corners of my mouth, clearing away his spilled seed before placing them back in his pocket. Bending down to grab the packs of paper, he turns, hands me one, and keeps the other for himself. He opens the door and walks away towards his office and I walk to mine. Still not a word spoken between us.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been three weeks, four days, six hours...Ketch was sent out on assignment the day after our supply closet "meeting". Staring at the back of his jacket as he walked away with the pack of paper under his arm was the last I'd seen of him. Well, that was the last time I'd seen him with my eyes open.  


Three weekly status meetings have gone by with almost all in attendance. The seat to my left is empty, but the affects of its former occupant remain. My pussy seems to have a mind of its own these days. Like a starving person smelling food which causes their mouth to water. My body is starving for him. The scent of him lingers on his chair and causes it to water. Preparing to consume a meal long desired, but not yet enjoyed. The days have been hell, but the nights have been even worse.  


I arrive home everyday after work, shut the door, quickly strip, and masturbate with a desperation that I've never known. It's a useless waste of time and energy . I can't make myself cum. I've given myself orgasms for years, but now all of my efforts are ineffective. My constant aching need has forced me to try some riskier, more creative methods in search of relief. I try touching myself at work in the supply closet. I get so close. I feel the edge of the approaching orgasm. I'm almost there, but no amount of rubbing or fingering will bring my release.  


My body, once so familiar, has become an alien landscape to me. Hostile with need and with an unknown terrain that must be conquered to achieve the orgasm I desire. I don't want Arthur Ketch. I need him. I have never needed anyone or anything like I need him. Sleeping is torture. Every night he appears in my dreams. Kissing me, biting me, fucking me...  


I wake with the memory of the orgasm still fluttering in my body. This brings no satisfaction, only more need. I stumble through my workday like a zombie. Arriving home, I drop my bag on the floor and stare into my apartment. What has happened to me? What do I do now? Fuck this and fuck him too. I pick up my bag and place it neatly in the closet, prepare a hot bath, and turn on the stereo. Chopin, perfect. I spend over an hour in the tub before exiting and drying off with a towel. I grab a nightshirt, slide it over my head, and put myself to bed. My last thought as I drift off to sleep is 'He's just a man.'  


I'm on that precarious edge of my dream and the waking world. I fight to keep dreaming because he's fucking me again. It's so real I swear I can smell him, feel the heat of his body. He's saying something I can't quite hear. He says it again and I'm dreaming I feel his hot breath on my ear. What is he saying?  


"Open your eyes."  


My eyes open with a start just as he thrusts his cock into me.  


The shock of his swift entry now has me fully awake and assessing the situation. The first thing I realize is that I'm completely naked. What the hell?! There is a wad of fabric stuffed into my mouth. My wrists are bound to the headboard and my ankles to the foot of the bed. I'm spread eagle with Ketch laying on top of me and his cock buried deep within me. His face is inches from mine and he's studying the expression on my face as the reality of my circumstances become clear to me. That wicked grin is on his face again and he's still as a statue. "Miss me, Love?" I moan my answer and begin to writhe beneath him and feel the first soft flutters of my climax. He feels it too. "Now, now. None of that. Good things to those who wait and all that." 

He climbs off of me and his cock exits me with a wet pop. After switching on a lamp, he brings a chair to the side of the bed. I notice that my nightshirt is draped across the back of it before he takes a seat. He's completely naked and sporting an impressive, glistening erection, but his face is void of emotion. Cold, calculating, and in complete control.  


"Now we're going to have a little conversation, but first allow me to make myself more presentable." He reaches for the discarded nightshirt and uses it to wipe my juices off of his hard prick. I'm mesmerized. I lift my head from the pillow in order to get a better view as a small, involuntary moan escapes me. He's making quite a show of it. Using one hand to hold his erection while the other gently wipes it top to bottom with my new favorite shirt. He's humming a familiar tune under his breath. Chopin? He rolls the shirt up and places it next to his hip. Leaning back in the chair and pressing his cock flush against his flat stomach. Arranging it and rearranging it until it's perfectly centered between his abs. He dramatically claps his hands clean and clears his throat. "My eyes are just here, Love." pointing to his face. "Ah, that's better. I'm going to ask you some questions and I would advise against lying in order to avoid any...unpleasantness." I nod yes and lift my chin toward him expecting him to remove my gag. "I think we'll leave that in for the moment. The questions will be of the yes or no variety and can be answered with a nod or shake of that pretty head. Understood? Good. Let's begin." 

"While I was away, did you take any sexual partners, any at all?" I vehemently shake my head 'No!' "Oh darling, already lying after only the first question." He shakes his head slowly in disapproval. "You did and I have ample evidence to prove it." I'm utterly confused as he jumps up from the chair and walks out of the room. He returns carrying a large silver platter that I inherited from my nana and it's loaded with....Oh God.  


In my desperate attempts to satisfy my need for him I had visited several sex shops and procured many different toys, in many shapes and sizes. He found every single one and was now jauntily walking them to my bedside table, his hard cock bouncing with each step taken. The collection appears even more obscene when presented upon such a fancy serving tray. Judging by the Cheshirelike grin on his face, that was exactly his intention. He holds the tray an inch above the table and then lets it drop from his hands. What doesn't fall off the platter is left swaying like skyscrapers during an earthquake.  
"What do you call this motley collection if not sexual partners?"  
I mumble something unintelligible through my gag and roll my eyes. Big mistake. His eyes narrow and the grin disappears from his face. He picks up one of the toys that fell to the floor. It is a large handheld vibrator with a cord. "I did warn you that lying would have unpleasant consequences."  


He doubles the cord so that the plug end and shaft are held in his hand while the rest of the cord swings free. Quick as a snake strike, he draws his arm back, forward, and back again. The tip of the cord makes contact with my left nipple for a millisecond and is gone before the pain registers in the sensitive nerve endings. It is like an explosion of heat and pain and...pleasure? I scream through the gag as the pinpoint spot of pain fans out from my breast and settles downward within me. I can feel a throbbing pulse in my nipple and the tempo is matched deep inside my pussy. My scream morphs into a long, low moan and the smile returns to his face.  
"I won't tolerate anyone or anything facilitating orgasms that are only meant for me."  
He steps forward, dropping the vibrator from his hand, and roughly grabs my sex.  
"This is mine and I do not share."  
He releases me and sits on the bed next to me. How is his cock still so hard?? His fingertips begin tracing the contours of my jaw, my neck, my collarbone, and then his hand settles on my breast. His thumb rubbing light, lazy circles around my aching nipple. "So, how many orgasms did these implements steal from me? How many did you steal with your solo fumblings in the supply closet?" My brow furrows. How in the hell did he know about that? He answers the unspoken question "My eyes are everywhere. It would be wise for you to remember that. How many?" I shake my head and form my fingers into an 'O'. His eyes flick to my hand and back to my face. "None? None at all?" I shake my head again and he carefully scrutinizes my face. One eyebrow raises and the side of his mouth pulls up into that smirk that I love. "Well, that does change things. I have been watching you for weeks. Watching and waiting for weeks. Waiting for one day when you did not touch yourself so that I could visit you and give you what you need." 'Well fuck' I think. If I had just kept my hands to myself... "Today was the first day in weeks that you didn't use one of those " he nods toward the toys,"or your hands in a futile attempt to replace the sensations that only I can provide. Lesson learned. Your need for release must be very great indeed." I nod and writhe my hips. "One last question. Are you ready?" I close my eyes and nod my assent.  


"Open your eyes. Now." he growls. I obey and he straddles my body and leans forward, his rock hard cock resting between my breasts. My heart is pounding as I look up into his eyes. My breathing, shallow in anticipation. He uses his hips to slowly push his thick member back and forth on my chest. He's watching my face as I watch the undulating movements of his beautiful cock. A large bead of precum spills from the head and I moan.  
"Do you want that?"  
I nod. He gathers the fluid on the tip of his finger and bends down toward my face. He grabs my gag with his teeth and pulls it from my mouth. I stretch my stiff jaw and notice that my gag was the panties he took from our last meeting. He waves his wet, shining finger in my face.  
"Do you still want this?"  
I nod, forgetting to use my voice. He wipes his cum on his bottom lip and leans close "Then take it."  
I quickly do as I'm told and take his lip into my mouth with a long sucking bite. He tastes so good, better than I remember. The heat of his mouth intoxicates me as he replaces his lip with his tongue. It aggressively explores the inside of my mouth. Oh my God, I can't breathe- I can't think. My whole existence has no meaning. Nothing matters but this moment here, with him now, as he sucks and bites my lips. I'm his. I've been his since the first time he grabbed my thigh in his tight, possessive grip. He switches positions and places his cock at my entrance. The wicked grin returns to his lips before his face charges toward mine and claims my mouth again. He pinches my sore left nipple while simultaneously slamming his cock into me. 

The effect is mind blowing and the orgasm immediate. He is fucking me with an animalistic wild abandon. My orgasm seems to last an eternity. My inner walls clutching and releasing around his cock as he mercilessly drives it into me over and over. His tempo is quick and erratic. My body is on the verge of sensory overload. One orgasm stops just as another takes its place. I've never known pleasure like this. He releases my nipple and my mouth and looks into my eyes. There is a sheen of sweat on his forehead. I lift my head up from the pillow and lick the salty offering he presents. He growls his approval and pumps even harder into me. He's so close and so am I, again. We are both panting, chests heaving in synch. I feel my pussy begin to clench around him just as he slams in with a final push and unloads himself into me. His hand is on my shoulder and he drags his nails down my shoulder, breast, and stomach in one movement, leaving five long, red paths on my skin. The pain, the pleasure...it's too much. I see stars popping in my vision and everything goes black.  


I wake up, confused. How long have I been out? Obviously long enough for him to untie me and dress himself. His back is to me and he's adjusting his tie in the mirror. His eyes meet mine and he turns to face me. "Welcome back. I'll just be off now. I do look forward to seeing you at the office tomorrow." He walks out of the room, but returns. "You won't need to wear any panties underneath your skirt. Understood?" he says with a grin. "Yes, Mr. Ketch." I reply.


	3. Chapter 3

The door clicks shut and he's gone. I lay in my bed not moving, just thinking. 'Wow. Did that really just happen?' I'm replaying the whole scene in my head when a thought occurs. Something he said after talking about my solo fumblings in the supply closet is bothering me. He said his eyes are everywhere. As he sat in that chair, trying to tease me to death, he was humming a Chopin ballad. The very same ballad that had been playing while I took my bath. He said he had been watching me for weeks...Shit. Grabbing my IPad from the nightstand, I prop myself up on a few pillows, and place it on top of my knees like I'm reading. I'm actually using the camera to search the room surreptitiously. I make my movements slow and use the zoom to scan every inch of the room. Gotcha. 1, 2, 3. Three cameras I've spotted so far and that's just what's here in my bedroom. 'You sneaky Bastard.' I think with a grin. 

I jump out of bed, taking my IPad with me, and go to the bathroom. I use the same technique to find an additional camera in here, facing the tub of course. Hmm..it's been over half an hour since he left and he's probably home by now. Maybe a little show is in order. I place my IPad down and do a self evaluation in the mirror. The term "hot mess" leaps to mind. On my head is the very definition of sex hair. My mouth is swollen and discolored. There is a small, crescent shaped bruise on my nipple where the cord struck me. But the scratch marks...There are five angry red welts that start at the top of my left shoulder and extend all the way down to my belly. I run my fingers down the entire length of them. No one has ever marked me in such a way and they convey a clear message - You're mine.  


Stepping away from the mirror, I go to the tub, and turn on the shower. I step in, but only close the curtain halfway behind me. The hot water is soothing at first and then it hits my newly acquired nail trail and bruised nipple. I flinch involuntarily. Damn that stings, but after the initial shock I realize I like it. A lot. The pain is a reminder of our time together and that is a fantastic memory. Despite my plan to put on a show for him, I lose myself remembering the touches, the kisses, the thrusts...I run my nails across the already existing scratches with one hand as I squeeze my nipple with the other. My head falls back and I moan. It feels so good, but pales in comparison to his touch. I let my hands fall to my sides before I pick up the soap bottle and pour a generous amount onto a washcloth. I give the cloth a few squeezes and a rich lather appears. Starting at my fingertips, I move the cloth up my arm in a slow, waving line until I reach my chest. I circle each breast before rubbing the cloth down one leg and up the other. 'You like to watch? Watch this.' I think as I turn to face the shower wall, giving the camera a clear view of my back. I lean forward and spread my legs, pushing the soapy cloth through my aching folds. I purposely drop the washcloth and bend all the way down as if to retrieve it. I remain bent over and push my hand through my pussy lips. I splay my fingers, opening myself completely to the camera. It no longer feels like the cold eye of an inanimate piece of technology. It's him. I feel his gaze upon me as if he were in the room and not miles away. I imagine his eyes, dark with desire, looking at me as I display my desire and my submission. Looking at me with the eyes of a killer.  


He's a predator this Mr. Ketch, and I am his prey.  


I am willingly his prey.  


I unfold my body, rinse away the remaining soap, turn off the water, and exit the tub. My eyes are downcast as I cross the room and stand beneath the camera hidden among the leaves of a plant. I lift my eyes and look directly at the camera. Directly at him. I purse my lips in a silent kiss before turning off the light and going back to bed. I have to face him at the office in a few hours, but first, sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

  
It’s hard to breathe. The whole room is a swirling mass of smoke and flames. I’m lying in my bed staring up at Mr. Ketch. There is a lighter in his hand and he taps it against his chin a few times before tossing it over his shoulder. He leans in close, whispering in my ear, “Are you sure this is what you want? Once we start down this road, there’s no turning back.” I can hear the flames crackling all around me and the smoke alarm sounding in the other room. I touch his face “Yes, I want this.” He turns, walks to the door, opens it, and leaves the room. The shriek of the smoke alarm comes pouring through the open door. It’s deafening and I cover my ears to block the sound…  


The sound jars me from my sleep and I squint against the daylight that floods my room. The alarm clock is chiming incessantly in my ear and I slap the off button to silence it. I shake my head in an attempt to clear away the last vestiges of the dream. No, not a dream - a warning. A warning I fully intend to ignore. I check the time and quickly go into panic mode. I’ve overslept and now I’m running late. In my rush to exit the bed, my foot gets tangled in the sheet and I fall facedown on the floor. ‘Smooth, girlfriend. Real smooth.’ I think to myself. Maybe I’ll be lucky and he wasn’t watching at that exact moment. I pick myself up and hurry to the closet to get dressed. I’m adjusting my skirt, sans panties, when my phone buzzes. I grab the phone and my bag as I run out of the apartment to the elevator and press the down button. As I’m waiting for it to arrive, I check the message. It’s from a number I don’t recognize, but I open it anyway.  


'Have a nice trip, Love?'  


Oh shit. It’s him and apparently he witnessed my tumble from the bed. Great.  


'Hurry up or you’ll miss the meeting. K'. 

The elevator dings and I get in. How could I forget that today was the day of our weekly status meeting? ‘Yes!’ I think as the elevator descends. I laugh at my new found excitement for the meetings I used to loathe.  


I drive to the office at breakneck speed and arrive just in time for him to hold the door open for me, as usual, and I nod my thanks, as usual. He makes a dashing impression with his beautifully tailored three-piece suit, pocket square, and not one hair out of place. The quintessential English gentleman. Well, on the surface. Beneath the glossy exterior and the posh mannerisms beats the heart of a brutal, sadistic killer. It’s not for nothing that Mr. Ketch is the British Men of Letters number one agent in the field. How many men, women, or creatures have tried to kill him? Tried and failed. Tried and died. We take our usual seats next to each other and Mr. Davies calls the meeting to order. He begins to drone on about something or other. My eyes are on him, but all my attention is focused on the man to my left. Ketch is also staring at Mr. Davies with seemingly rapt attention. I can hear my phone buzzing in my bag, but ignore it and it stops. I feel his foot give mine a tap under the table. My phone begins it’s staccato buzzing again and his foot taps a matching tempo against mine. I finally understand what he’s telling me without words  
‘Answer your phone, it’s me.’  


I reach into my bag as inconspicuously as possible and retrieve my phone. I place it on my lap and see that i have a new email that reads:  


'Follow these direction EXACTLY or there will be consequences. Place your feet six inches apart. Now.’ I do as I’m told and continue reading. ‘Open the attached link and watch the video in its entirety. DO NOT AVERT YOUR EYES FROM THE SCREEN. DO NOT MOVE YOUR HANDS FROM YOUR PHONE. DO NOT CROSS OR CLOSE YOUR LEGS.’  


I swallow nervously or excitedly or both, I don’t know. I click on the link and the screen goes black. I think something has gone wrong, but then a room gradually appears. Everything has the eery greenish glow that comes from a night vision camera and it takes me a moment to recognize the room. It’s my bedroom and I’m asleep in my bed. The door swings open and he saunters in like he owns the place. He walks to the foot of my bed, removes the comforter that covers me, and places it to the side. I watch as he grabs the bottom corners of the bedsheets and slowly pulls it until my feet are hanging off the edge. He moves toward the headboard and gently places my arms straight above my head. Like a magician yanking a tablecloth from beneath plates, he removes my nightshirt with one smooth, quick pull. Watching this is so fucking hot. I know what’s coming next and I begin to squeeze my legs shut, desperate to feel some friction.  


He must have sensed the movement because he whispers, “No.” under his breath, barely loud enough for me to hear. He places his foot between mine to prevent any further deviations from his directions. On the screen, I watch him remove some lengths of rope from his jacket pockets. He ties my ankles and wrists to the bed frame. How in the hell did I sleep through all of this?! He removes his clothes and hangs them neatly in my closet. He returns to the foot of my bed and stares at me as I lay there naked, and tied spread eagle. He stares at me and strokes his cock a few times. He kneels on the floor, his torso between my legs, and buries his face in my pussy while simultaneously pumping his hard cock into the mattress.  


I inhale deeply. This is torture. I can’t take it. My knees seem to start closing on their own. He quickly slides his hand from the table and grabs my left knee in his vice-like grip. He pushes down and forces my leg to straighten. He hooks his knee over mine and plants his leg firmly between mine. I glance up from the screen expecting an angry glare, but there is the hint of a smile on his lips. I notice a small mole above his lip and wonder how I’d missed it before. After briefly looking into my eyes and he pointedly looks down to the phone in my lap. I follow his unspoken order and return my eyes to the screen.  


He is now standing and turns, walking toward the closet. He grabs something from his jacket and walks directly to the camera. Even in the peculiar light from the night vision image, the glint of my juices on his face is evident. While looking directly into the camera, he runs his tongue lewdly over his top lip. He lifts his arm to reveal my stolen panties in his hand, which he uses to wipe his face clean. A rakish grin is on his lips as he turns and walks back to the foot of the bed. Slowly, he crawls over my body. His movements smooth and deliberate, like a jungle cat. He’s positioned his cock between my legs and he props both of his elbows on either side of my head. With one hand, he gently opens my mouth and he uses the other to push the panties in, gagging me. Looking over his shoulder at the camera, he smiles, and then lowers his mouth to my ear. I see my own eyes fly open as he thrusts into me and then the screen goes black.  


I’m panting slightly as I return my phone to my bag and then place both hands on the table in front of me. My legs, once again, try to close even though it’s impossible with his leg between them. The meeting is adjourned and I’m suddenly brought back to reality. He removes his leg from between mine and stands to leave. I rise and begin to follow when Mr. Davies calls me back and says, “I need to speak to you privately. I’ll visit your office later today. Alright?” I nod my assent and quickly leave the room. My phone begins to buzz and I see a new message from Ketch.

**‘You disobeyed my orders. Go directly to your office to receive your punishment.'**


	5. Chapter 5

'Punishment? What the hell have I gotten myself into?' I think as I rush through the halls. This is all new to me. He's an enigma this Mr. Ketch, and I'm realizing I am too. I've never been one to seek out pain or punishment, but here I am, power walking to my office - to him. 

I'm nervous and confused by this whole situation. No man has ever consistently occupied my waking thoughts and my sleeping dreams. No man has ever made my body sing and scream at the same time. Until now. Until him.

I'm unsure of myself. I want him. I need what he gives me. But this is all new to me. I've never been with someone that gives orders and hands out punishments like candy on Halloween. As strange as this all is to me, it also feels...familiar? No, that's not the right word. It feels like it's where I belong. It feels like home, but like no home I've ever known before.

I finally arrive at my office door and take a deep breathe before entering. The room is empty and everything appears to be just as I left it. I check behind the door. Nope, he's not there. I sigh and walk to my desk. It's one of those solid mahogany desks that probably weighs the same as a small vehicle. I pull my chair out to sit, but stop myself because there is something on my seat. It's silver and about 18 inches long from the handle to the tip of the wicked looking triangular blade. I pick it up and sit down while studying it. I'm not a field agent yet, but I know enough to know what this is and how dangerous it is. 

"Are you ready?"

His voice comes from directly behind me. The blade falls from my hands as I spin around in my chair and see him towering over me. I notice that the door to my private washroom is now open and it explains his sudden appearance. He has a very stern look upon his face as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pair of black leather gloves. 

"I assume that you know what that is and what it can do?" he asks while slipping the gloves onto his hands.

"Yes." I answer.

"You will address me as Sir or Mr. Ketch from this moment on. Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes, Sir."

"I know you've been trained to recognize it, but our research department has, quite recently, made some very interesting discoveries concerning how it functions. Are you privy to this information?"

"No, Sir."

"We've always known that this is more than a mere piece of metal. It has a power all it's own contained within it. This energy is released when the blade becomes immersed in the flesh and blood of any angel, demon, human, or other variety of creature. This power has been given the moniker "antigrace". This antigrace is so potent that it expels grace from angels and forces demons out of their host bodies before taking their lives. It's like a fire hose, with the blade acting as the nozzle for the blast of power to burst forth and fill a vessel so fully that whatever grace, soul, or demon essence currently resides in said vessel has nowhere else to go but out." he pauses his lecture with a small, smug little grin as he studies my face.

"Think of the blade as a gun, but unlike a gun, every molecule of an angel blade is imbibed with antigrace. If it is cut into pieces each piece becomes a weapon, and this is not so with a gun. But like a gun, when fired, the power can be felt in the handle in the form of recoil. The handle of the blade also reacts when immersed into a body. This is a reaction you are about to experience first hand."

The realization of what he's saying hits me like a punch in the gut. 'Oh God no!' I scream inside my mind as my heartbeat quickens.

"Stand up and sit on the desk."

My legs shake as I rise from my chair and sit on the desk as instructed. He steps forward and leans his face in close, his eyes staring into mine with no trace of emotion.

"Don't move until I command you to do so."

Leaning in closer, he runs his tongue first over my top lip and then the bottom. He places one hand behind my neck and uses the other to bring the handle of the angel blade close to my lips. Slowly, he waves it back and forth in front of my face as a small smile curls at the edges of his mouth. I watch as he aims the handle at my mouth and then pushes it through my lips until it taps to a stop against my teeth. My head attempts to jerk back, but his iron grip on the back of my neck prevents it. The sensation I am experiencing can only be compared to an electric shock. It reminds me of a game we used to play as children. Daring each other to stick our tongue on the contact points of a 9 volt battery, but this is stronger and accompanied by a strange warmth. He removes the handle, but keeps it close to my face.

"Open your mouth."

I hesitate and he moves his hand from the back of my neck up to my hair. Grabbing a handful, he pulls until my head turns and my ear is in front of his mouth. 

"I apologize if that sounded like a request. It wasn't. Open your fucking mouth, now."

He releases my hair and grabs my bottom jaw, his fingers spread on my cheeks. They curl inward and force themselves between my teeth, causing my mouth to open. I stop fighting and let my jaw hang slack as I shut my eyes tight. 

"No. Do not shut down. Do not try to escape this by retreating to the inner corners of your mind. Be here. Be present in the moment...with me." He says as he runs his free hand down my cheek.

I open my eyes and see the handle of the blade in front of my mouth. I raise my eyes from the blade and stare straight into his as I move my head forward and take the handle into my mouth. I flinch at the initial touch and the alien sting of power and heat emanating from it. I move my head further down until the entire handle is engulfed in my mouth. The feeling is uncomfortable and painful, but not unbearable. I imagine that my mouth surrounds his cock and begin to slide my tongue around it as I bob my head back and forth. Again and again and again. As he watches me suckle, his mouth has opened slightly and I see his tongue clamped between his teeth. I release the handle from my mouth and run my tongue up and down the length of it. His teeth click together as he snaps his mouth closed. The blade is taken away from my face and placed on the desk next to me. His hands are on either side of my face and he looks at me for a moment, his jaw clenched. I notice his cock is straining against his zipper as he grabs one of my hands and places it on his chest, beneath his jacket. I can feel his erect nipple through the crisp fabric of his shirt. This is the first time I've been allowed to touch him and I have to fight the urge to explore.

"Pinch. Hard." he growls.

I do as he commands and he sucks his breath in through his teeth. Eyes hooded as his head falls back for just a moment. He quickly regains his composure and says, "Right then, let's get to your punishment."

'What?' I think as he takes my hand from his chest and pushes me back on the desk until I'm lying across it , my legs hanging over the side. He lifts my skirt and runs one gloved hand over my wet pussy, giving my clit a few circular rubs while picking up the angel blade with his other hand. My eyes widen and my mouth opens, a small panicked sound escapes my throat. I feel my body's fight or flight response triggered and I begin to squirm under him. He stops rubbing me and places his hand on my chest and pressing down hard to prevent my escape. I grab his wrist with both of my hands but his arm is like steel and doesn't move an inch. I watch, as if in slow motion, as he steps between my legs to prevent them from closing and points the handle of the angel blade at my exposed sex. His left eyebrow is raised and a smile plays on his lips as he touches the outside of my entrance with the weapon.

And then there's a knock at the door

He pulls back as his head pops up to look at the door. I know who it is because he told me he was coming. "It's Mr. Davies. He said he needed to speak to me privately." I whisper quickly. Pulling me up, he pushes me toward the washroom. "Go in, shut the door, flush the toilet, run the water, come out. Hurry!" he hisses. "But you..." I start to say but he cuts me off. "GO!" 

I do as he instructs. I walk out of the restroom to an empty office. Mr. Davies has his face just inside the door,"Is this a bad time?" he asks.  
"Not at all. Please come in, Mr. Davies. Take a seat." I say as I sit down in my chair and wonder where Mr. Ketch disappeared to.  
"Please, call me Mick."  
"Alright, M-ick." My voice cracks at the end of his name as I feel a gloved hand grip my calf. Jesus Christ! He's under the fucking desk!

I put on my best poker face and ask,"What do you need to speak to me about?"

Mick grabs a pen from his pocket and begins twirling it in his fingers.

I feel one hand on each calf pushing my legs apart.

"I uh, well." Mick clears his throat.

My skirt is being pushed up to my hips. I feel his hair tickle my thighs and his hot breath between my legs.

"You've been here a few months and I..."

He's rubbing his face on my thighs. I can feel the hint of stubble on his cheeks. I slide my hand off the desk and try to push his face away. 

"am very impressed with your job performance."

He grabs my hand and I feel the tip of his tongue trace a line from my inner wrist to the end of my middle finger. He pushes my hand to my clit and moves it around in a circle several times. He removes his hand from mine and I continue to circle my clit with my fingers.

"And there's something I've been meaning to ask you, but it's a little um..."

He places his hand behind my ankle and straightens my leg out. I feel him touch the top of my foot with one finger and slowly drag it upwards. It passes my knee before I realize it's not his finger. It's the blade. Halfway up my thigh I clamp my hand down over my entrance.

"Did you hear me?" Mick asks.

"I'm sorry, I didn't." I reply.

"Would you care to join me for dinner this evening?"

A sudden pain on my hand forces me to remove it. It feels like he just jabbed my knuckle with the point of the blade. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to get his message across,'Move or I'll hurt you.'  
I sit on my hand and spread my legs as wide as I can. He shows his approval by planting a soft bite on my inner thigh. Oh damn, Mick is still waiting for an answer.

"While I'm flattered that you'd ask," I begin as I feel the blade handle continuing its journey toward my pussy.

Mick's face falls slightly as he recognizes the rejection. I continue,"I just don't think us going on a date -"

The handle plunges into me as I say the word and I shut my eyes briefly, but open them quickly and say,"No, I can't. I just can't."

Mick stands quickly and is making his goodbyes as Ketch's mouth clamps down over my clit. Sucking and rolling his tongue as he works the handle in and out of me. Mick has left the room and I lean back in my chair so that I can watch him as he drives me over the edge of pain and pleasure once again. I'm in awe of his complete mastery of my body as the first waves of my orgasm hit me and begin to snowball into an explosion of pleasure. My inner walls are squeezing around the hard metal and the rhythm is perfectly matched by my pulse which is throbbing loudly in my ears. I throw my head back and give myself over to the orgasm rocking through my body. The pulsing subsides and he pulls the weapon out of me. 

He places the blade in my lap and says with a grin,"Changed your mind about this have you?" 

The door opens just as I say,"Yes, I've changed my mind. Yes."

Mick, who had returned to retrieve his forgotten pen, grins and answers,"Cheers! I'll come around your place at eight." and walks out of the room again.

Shit. I push my chair back. Ketch maneuvers from underneath the desk and stands in front of me. He wipes his face clean, straightens his jacket, and tie and says,"Oh my, you are in trouble." before walking out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

My leg shake as I fall back into the chair again. I just had the most powerful orgasm of my life, inadvertently excepted a date with my supervisor, and landed back in trouble with Mr. Ketch, all in one blow. I chew on my bottom lip as I remember the displeased look upon his face before he left. Will it always be like this? Him unhappy with me for some transgression of his unwritten rules and me waiting to receive punishment for my “disobedience”? I’m so new to this and have no idea what to do, but there are four things that I am certain of. First, he excites me, body and mind,like no other man ever has. Second, since his first touch all of my instincts have been driving me to please and obey him. Third, he simply enjoys punishing me. Fourth, he knows when he has pushed me too far. Earlier, after I shut down, he backed off just enough to pull me out of my inner sanctum. He softened his tone while gently touching my face until I rejoined him in the moment. He’s a master at what he does. He’s a master of my body, my pleasure and his own. He’s a master and I’m his...what? I’m his. Full stop.  
I lean back in the chair with a small smile on my face. His. I like that. Even though he brings me pain, it is accompanied by the most intense pleasure that I have ever experienced. The pain, pleasure, and the ensuing adrenaline rush all combined to make the whole greater than the sum of its parts. And despite it all, he actually makes me feel safe. He knows exactly what I want, what I need. I didn’t even know, but he does.  
My musings are suddenly interrupted by my phone buzzing in my bag. I pull it out and see that there is a new message from Mr. Ketch.  
‘Daydreaming about your impending date?’  
What? How? Oh, of course there’s another camera in here somewhere.  
‘Not him. You, Sir.’ I answer.  
‘What about me? Too vanilla for you?’  
I laugh out loud.  
‘You, SIR, are the farthest thing from vanilla I’ve ever met.’  
‘You have NO idea. You will leave work early today. We want you to have plenty of time to clean up for your date tonight.’  
‘Yes, Mr. Ketch.’  
Hmm, he’s different over the phone, playful even. I complete and file a few reports before leaving the office and going back to my apartment building. I keep checking my phone in the elevator, waiting for additional instructions but none arrive. I walk into my apartment, go straight to the bathroom, and turn on the water in the tub. I have just kicked off my shoes when I hear a shrill whistling coming from the kitchen. The kettle? I slowly walk through the dining room and into the kitchen.  
Mr. Ketch is sitting on a chair in the center of the room steeping a teabag in a steaming cup of water. Legs crossed, body relaxed, and his eyes focused on the cup. Without looking up from his task he says, “Go turn off the water. You won’t be going in there for a while. Come straight back after. Understood?”  
“Yes, Mr. Ketch.” I reply.  
I do as he orders and promptly return to the kitchen. He is standing at the sink with his back turned to me. The chair remains between us in the center of the room. Now that he’s vacated it I can see that it isn’t one of mine. He must’ve brought it with him along with the large leather duffel bag that rests behind it. Odd that such a refined man should own something like this. It’s a rigid wooden chair with three horizontal rails across the back and stretcher bars between each leg. Some of the dark cherry stain has worn off in strange patterns giving it a mottled appearance.  
“Remove your clothing and sit on the chair.” he says with his back still facing me. I take off my clothes and lay them on the counter before sitting on the hard chair. Behind me, I can hear a spoon clinking against the side of the cup but all else is quiet. I’m startled by movement to my left as he walks by to the counter in front of me and sets the cup down, placing a saucer over the top. He doesn’t make a sound, even when he removes his jacket and places it over my clothing. He turns around and leans back against the counter as he begins to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. He’s still not looking at me and I find this very unsettling.  
“Am I correct in assuming that this is the first time you’ve been with someone like me?”  
“Yes, Sir. Sir?”  
“Ask your question.”  
“How did you know that I wanted...that I am...?”  
The question fades from my voice as I fail to find the correct words. The sides of his mouth curl up slightly before he speaks,”You’ve never known about this side of yourself, have you?”  
“No, Sir.” I whisper,”Not until you.”  
I stare at the floor as I feel heat rise in my cheeks.  
“The Men of Letters see fit to call me an agent, but the crude America nomenclature is more apropos. I am a hunter in occupation and in life.”  
His shoes appear before my downcast eyes as he steps forward to stand in front of me.  
“How did I know, you ask. I could smell it on you from the first day we passed each other in the corridor. I could see it in the way you quickly lowered your eyes whenever they met mine. I could hear it in the months of silence that passed between us. You’ve been chumming the water around you for quite some time, Love.”  
His tie travels down my chest is he leans in close to whisper in my ear, “Exactly as you’re doing at this very moment. My inner predator is triggered when you’re so docile. When you react to my various torments.”  
He places his hand around my throat and leans in closer, his lips touching my ear. I shiver. “You are so responsive.”  
He releases my throat, reaches behind me to grab the duffel bag, and places it at my feet. The zipper seems so loud as he opens it. He takes out a coil of rope which he holds in front of my face.  
“Are you mine?”  
“Yes,Sir.”  
“To do with as I please?”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
“To speak to as I please?”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
“When I command?”  
“I will obey, Sir.”  
“That remains to be seen.”  
His empty hand dives into his pants pocket and retrieves my panties. Does he carry them everywhere with him? This thought pleases me.  
“Open your mouth.”  
I do and he shoves the panties inside. I’m trembling from a combination of fear and anticipation.  
“Stop fidgeting. Now!”,he growls.  
I take a deep breath and calm myself enough to cease the shaking.  
“Sit at the edge of the seat and lean back. Place your hands behind your back.”  
I position myself as he commands and he walks behind me. He spends the next several minutes tying my upper body and wrists to the chair. My eyes transfix upon his hands as they work the rope around me and his fingers as they deftly tie complicated knots in several places. The end result resembles the outline of a bikini top, but it’s made of neat rows of scratchy rope and twisting knots instead of soft material. He removes two more lengths of rope from the bag and says, “Spread your legs.”  
I obey and he slaps my inner thigh.  
“Wider!”  
I quickly spread my legs as far as possible.  
“Now raise your feet and balance your toes on the outer stretcher bars.”  
I do as he orders and he ties my legs and ankles together and to the chair. I can feel the hot imprint of his hand on my thigh where he struck me. I can also feel the wetness seeping from my pussy. After he finishes he takes a step back, places his index finger on his lips, and admires his handiwork. He looks everywhere, except my face. He hasn’t looked at my face since before he walked out of my office. My sense of unease increases to mild panic. I test my bonds and find that I’m almost totally immobilized. Every time I tense my arms or legs the chair creaks. My head and neck are unrestrained and I shake it with twitchy movements trying to force him to look at me.  
“Ah, Yes.”, he says quietly to himself. He loosens his tie, slides it over his head, and tries to slip it on mine. My movements prevent him from doing so. The back of his free hand slams into my cheek with enough force to stun me, but it’s not very hard. He places his tie over my head with the knot behind my neck and ties the free ends to the back of the chair. After securing my neck, he steps to his cup and removes the saucer from the top, releasing a small plume of steam. He takes a sip and places the spoon back into the cup.  
“If you continue to move your neck, the tie will tighten and restrict your breathing.” He pauses and then says,”Do not mistake the light slap I gave you for mercy. It is necessary to keep your face unscathed for your date this evening.”  
He lifts a spoonful of tea from the cup and taps it on the rim, making a small ‘ting’ noise.  
“You’re sloppy cunt is making a mess of my chair.”  
He tips the hot tea from the spoon in between my spread legs. I yelp through my gag as the heated liquid touches the top of my vulva and dribbles through my folds down to the chair. He removes his pocket square and wipes the area clean before dropping it into the open duffel bag. He reaches in after and pulls out two items. In his left hand he holds a wand vibrator. It is completely black except for the top of the oblong head, which appears to have a small silver disc inserted in the middle. In his right hand is a crude whip. The wooden handle is about two feet long and has four long strands of rough sisal attached to one end. They are knotted in several places and have small beads scattered throughout. He places the vibrator on the counter and plugs it in. His hands are on either end of the whip shaft and he’s rolling it between his fingers, admiring it. I can’t take my eyes off of the beaded thongs, which make a soft clacking noise as he inspects the handle.  
“So fixated upon the end of the whip. You must learn to expand your mind to all the possibilities.”  
He steps forward and places the handle across my chest, his hands holding it directly underneath each nipple. He grasps it with forefingers below and his thumbs above. My nipples are hard from excitement and his proximity. He raises his thumbs and captures my nipples between them and the whip handle, pressing down hard, and rolls the handle back toward himself. A muffled scream shatters the silence in the room. The pain is excruciating. It feels as though he is trying to tear my nipples from my body. He releases them with a small chuckle. I was wrong to think that he simply enjoys punishing me.  
He fucking loves it.  
The whip is now in his right hand. He draws his arm back and brings it forward to strike my left breast and then reverses his motion to strike the right. My limbs pull against the ropes with each blow and the chair creaks in protest.*creak,creak*  
He places the whip on the counter and picks up the vibrator. The cord is very long and easily reaches from the plug to the chair. He’s pointing at the silver disc on top.  
“I had this custom made. This is a flattened portion of Angel Blade metal.”  
He reaches into the duffel bag again and retrieves a soft leather strap. After placing the vibrator under one arm, he unfolds the strap, places it over my eyes, and ties it behind my head.  
Losing my sight activates instantaneous, primal reactions from my body. My nostrils flare as my breathing increases. I can smell his warm skin near my face. My blood rushes and my body tenses, eliciting more protests from the chair.*creak,creak,creak* My hearing is amplified. All of my other senses are working in tandem to compensate for my lost vision.  
Silence.  
I wait, listening to my own breathing, the beating of my heart, the blood rushing through my veins. My hypersensitivity spreads to my flesh. I feel every strand of rope that is wrapped around my body. I feel every pinching, twisted knot binding me to the chair. I feel my nipples, aching and swollen from Mr. Ketch’s rough handling. I feel exactly where he struck me with the whip on each breast. There are two throbbing areas of pain mapping out each knotted, beaded strand of that damn whip. There is a warm stinging trail extending from the top of my sex down to the chair from the hot tea. I feel the chair is so wet again from the constant flow of juices pooling around my gaping pussy. Silence.  
I can’t even hear his breathing, but I know he’s there. I sense his presence, his eyes upon me. *click*  
Directly in front of me I hear a quiet buzzing noise. The vibrator. I groan through my gag as it touches my clitoris. There is a mild electrical sensation that accompanies the vibrating. It’s not as intense as when the handle was inserted into me, but it is still very uncomfortable, at first. Once again the combination of pain and pleasure intensify the effects of both. The first waves of my impending orgasm begin rolling through my body. I’m almost there and then,*click*. The vibrator is turned off and taking away. No! I pull against my bonds and the chair protests each movement.*creak, creak, creak* I’m trying to beg, plead through the material stuffed into my mouth, but all my words are unintelligible. I’m sure he understands and is choosing not to help me. I hear a soft clacking noise to my left. The whip.*whoosh* I scream as the whip makes contact with my stomach *whoosh* and again. I pull staggered breaths through my nose as the tendrils of pain covering my body throb and ache. *click* *buzz* Oh, the sting and pleasure again. I feel my orgasm building again. The soft waves starting deep inside and steadily gaining strength.  
“Uh, uh, uh..” I moan in time with the building waves. I’m on the edge. *click*  
Please not again! I lift myself as much as possible from the seat, desperately seeking to make contact with something, anything. I try to squeeze my leg shut. *creak,creak* I hear my loud breathing, the creaking chair, and my muffled sounds of frustration. *ting*  
The sound brings me out of my mania. The spoon against the cup. The hot liquid drips onto one nipple and then the other, flows down my breasts, and rolls off of my sides. His mouth, warm and wet, is at the bottom of one trail, licking his way up to my nipple. He takes my aching bud in his mouth and he nips it. tonguing it roughly. He is so close that I can smell him again. He uses suction to pull it outward and releases it with a loud, moist pop. I moan as he begins the process again with the other side. Cleaning all of the tea from my body with his wicked lips, teeth, and tongue. Then he’s gone. *ting* I hold my breath, waiting for his next move. My stomach flinches as the tea hits my bellybutton and flows down to my open cunt and below. I feel his tongue first as he stabs it into my navel and moves it in a circle. His lips, nose, and chin smash into my abdomen next. He licks and slurps up every drop before he moves down to follow the path the tea has made. Yes, please! I lift my ass from the chair as high as possible, straining against the ropes. *creak* I feel a sudden exhale of breath from him. He’s laughing silently. He finds my need amusing. My lips curled upward as well. He takes each of my thighs in his strong hands before his tongue plunges into my wet opening. His nose runs circles around my clit as he curls his tongue upward while it darts in and out of me a few times. He pulls his tongue out of me and slowly drags it up my wet crevice to my clit. His teeth scrape it before he begins to flick it lightly with his quick tongue. “M, m, m, m...” my moans match the timing of his licks. So close and then he’s gone again. No! I can’t take it again! The chair releases a chorus of creaks and squeaks as I flex every muscle in my body trying to escape. My screams behind my gag are guttural and filled with rage. Tears of frustration pour from beneath the blindfold. They stream down my face as I feel the strap being loosened and pulled from my eyes. My gag is also removed as my eyes adjust to the sudden flood of light. His hands are on both sides of my face and he staring into my eyes. His gaze drops to the tears dripping from my cheeks.  
“You are so beautiful in your suffering.” he says gruffly before tonguing and kissing the tears from my face. He bites my bottom lip before shoving his tongue in my mouth for a deep, slow kiss. The salt of my tears make a delicious combination with the taste of him. His hands and mouth release my face and he begins untying my bonds.  
“After you are unfettered, you are not to close your legs or touch yourself. Is that clear?”  
I groan,”Yes, Sir. Please, Sir, please?”  
He grins before saying,”Please what?”  
“Please make me cum, Sir.”  
He finishes untying me from the chair and packs the rope back into the duffel bag. He also places the vibrator and the whip into the duffel bag before zipping it closed.  
“Oh, I think not.”,he says with a huge smile. “It’s time for your bath.”


End file.
